


Drunk Together

by memeberd



Category: Tintin - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Haddotin, Lame Drunk Vanilla Kisses, M/M, Oneshot, use of alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 09:04:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15992036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memeberd/pseuds/memeberd
Summary: Some say when you're drunk you're prone to be more emotional or let the truth hang out with less effort than it'd take if you were sober.





	Drunk Together

      Tears began to fall from Tintin’s face. He sat in silence, just feeling them fall and touching them to make sure they’re there. And it’s the strangest feeling because he didn’t particularly feel anything right then, maybe he’s disappointed that he got drunk around the Captain. Maybe it was because he gave in and reinforced this vice that had such a deadly strong grip on his beloved partner. But there’s no despairing force shaking his shoulders or yanking down at the corners of his mouth. The tears just kept falling, and he kept reflecting on how disappointed in himself he was for giving in. And the smallest fraction of himself that’s still tangible is hoping the Captain isn’t too drunk to notice something’s wrong.

       He was definitely too drunk. But wordlessly, he started thumbing and swiping away at Tintin’s tears with wavering calloused fingers. It was tender and careful yet harsh and clumsy all at the same time. The fingers would press almost soft against the wetness on Tintin’s cheeks and then drag off in any direction, stretching the flesh wherever they swept.

      “What’s the matter…?” Haddock asked. “em… er… sentimental drinker?”

      If there was any good thing about a drunk Haddock, it was that his accent thickened when he was in this state with an added lisp. It was a strange transformation, but it made Tintin wonder if a younger Haddock spoke like that before he was pestered one two many times over it.

       “I’m thinking,” Tintin says as if it were such a monumental achievement, “that I failed.”

        “Failed?” Haddock spat at the wild nonsense coming out of Tintin’s mouth. “That’s the drink talking. You never fail.”

         “I’m thinking I failed because I always say I never drink. And now we’re both drunk.” Tintin closed his eyes, talking so slowly and concisely. “I’m thinking I could jump fifty feet into a body of water, or get shot, but I’m afraid of upsetting you. Even if it means life or death.”

         “When... would you ever upset me?” 

          Tintin burned bright red from cheek to ear, eyes snapping open. He let out a strangled groan and tried to wipe more of his tears away only for them to be replaced with more. “On the Sirius! Remember?”

          His eyebrows crinkled. “What did you do to upset me on the Sirius?” Haddock asked apprehensively.

           “I was the only person who was in the captain’s quarters when your two bottles of whiskey went missing that day.” Tintin said, staring Haddock intensely in both of his blue eyes. He felt that maybe his own eyes were widening and somehow growing wider. They stung, perhaps they'd pop out. “You really never  _ once _ suspected it was me?”

           The weather in Haddock’s dazed eyes changed. The lids lifted and baby blue beheld Tintin with a look of awe, at any moment he knew the storm would hit. 

            “ _ That was you?”  _ Haddock whispered.

            “Yes!” Tintin sobbed scandalously. “I threw the first one into the ocean, I didn’t have the chance to dispose the second until after I saw how angry you were and I…” 

            The words tangled his tongue and he shielded his face from the Captain as he was overtaken by a sobbing fit. Haddock’s arms barrelled forward to pull him into a hug, but feeling too childish Tintin pushed his friend away.

           “And I didn’t do it because I thought it’d be funny either.” Tintin said in defense once he could speak again. “After you showed me that letter from your doctor I was  _ so worried."  _ Tintin whimpered. “I thought I could stall that harm you were causing yourself if I disposed of those two bottles but I know it was so much more complicated than that. So I thought if I acted like I never drank you’d copy me but that was wrong too! 

           “And now I’m sitting here crying about it to you like a…” Instead of finishing his sentence, another sob shook him. He hid his tears again until they could be scrubbed away.

            “Caring person?” Haddock said while leaning close. “Maybe a person who cares too much?”

            Tintin looked again at those eyes. They lacked the glint of wrath or disappointment Tintin had feared to see so long, and suddenly he didn’t see this grand person he exalted higher than himself. He saw a man who was crying with him. A man who was leaning close obviously because instead of calling him a string of insults he was determined to envelop the young man infront of him in his strong arms. Captain no longer was a title, but a nickname quite like  _ Tintin _ was. 

            “You’re not mad?” Tintin asked.

            “Thund’ring typhoons,” Haddock slurred. “How could I be mad at you?”

           He leaned in sucking his bottom lip in, wrapping his arms around the Captain. The Captain embraced him back, crushing the finely tuned quiff with his beard.

            “Tintin, what do you think of me?” Haddock asked slowly. “I’ve been nothing but a troublesome old drunkard this whole time we’ve been friends. You don’t see that?”

             Bubbles of static rose up and burst into heat in Tintin’s chest with the accompaniment of his heart trying to take off from its place in his chest.

            “You’re, important to me.” Tintin answered after careful consideration, giving the Captain a squeeze. “Are you important, I mean, am I important to you?” He looked up and saw the tear stains soiling Haddock’s wrinkled face and melting into his beard.

           “Well seeing you cry makes me cry. I think you’re quite important to me, old man.”

          Three very specific words began to claw at Tintin’s lips and tongue, but they remained under tight lock and key. Instead Tintin smiled at the Captain who was wiping aggressively at his nose and pulled a handkerchief out of one of his pockets and began to dab the man’s bearded face dry.

          “I’m sorry I cried infront of you like that.” Tintin said, unable to hide how suddenly giddy he felt as he pulled away from their hug to get better tear-drying leverage. “Let’s never drink together again.” He said with a sheepish grin that didn't match the dopey look in his eyes.

         “Blistering barnacles,  _ why not?” _

__  “Because we might end up crying like this again.”

         “What’s the matter with crying?”

         Tintin stopped dabbing Haddock’s face and gave him an expectant half-lidded stare with an arched brow and a cheek chewed in while he tucked the handkerchief away. Instead of following himself up the Captain began to laugh.

          “What?” Tintin said, giving the Captain a confused smile.

          “You’ve  _ never _ looked at me that way before. You’re usually so com-er, compliant? You should’a seen it. It was hilarious.” Haddock said cheerily. “You know, you do a mighty fine job at hiding your insecurities.”

           “Oh,” Tintin swatted the air, “as a public figure I have to.”

           “When did you ever care what other people think about you?”

           “I care what  _ you _ think about me.”

           “Well please don’t. You could chop all my fingers off and I'd still like you.”

           “That’s a horrifying prospect please stop being my friend if I ever do that.”

           “But what if it’s an accident?!”

           “ _ Captain I know you meant intentional.” _

           By the time an hour had passed, both Tintin and Haddock laid themselves on the floor of the den with all the lights off, they both just stared at the chandelier and how the moonlight gleamed off of it.

          “Okay,” Haddock said, his voice torn with fatigue, “would you rather…” he yawned, “get bit by a spider or-"

          “Get my ear shot off.” Tintin answered quickly.

          “What? I didn’t finish! You’d seriously rather lose your ear than get bit by a wee spider?”

          “ _ I don’t like spiders.” _ Tintin enunciated.

          “Hm,” Haddock said thoughtfully, tapping his beard, “would you rather get stranded in space or get bit by a spider?”

          “Stranded in space.” Tintin said.

          “Would you rather get stranded on an island with Calculus or get bit by a spider?”

          “Stranded on an island with Calculus.”

          “Would you rather lick a barnacle or get bit by a spider?”

          “Lick a barnacle.”

          Haddock bit back a chuckle. “Would you rather eat ash right out of the fireplace or get bit by a spider?”

         “Do you need me to  _ demonstrate _ for you?” Tintin said, sitting up. Haddock caught him with a palm and pushed him back down by the chest.

         “Nope, that won’t be ne’ssary.” Haddock slurred. “You’d really eat _burnt_ _ashes?”_

         “As opposed to getting bit by a  _ spider? _ Yes.”

         “Would you rather kill a man or get bit by a spider?” Haddock didn’t conceal his amused laughter anymore.

         “ _ I’d like to ask the questions now.” _ Tintin said with a fake sharp end to his voice, coaxing more laughter out of the Captain. “Would you rather… Go to a performance of Castafiore’s or give up drinking?”

         Haddock laid still on the floor in existential silence.

         “You can’t even choose one.” Tintin said in awe.

         “I’m thinking.” Haddock batted his hand at Tintin. “Blistering barnacles, uh…”

         “C’mon, Captain.”

         “Hold on, I’ll get it,” Haddock said.

         Tintin’s stomach bubbled with warm static again as an idea popped into his head. “How about I give you an easier one then?”

         “What you got?” 

         “Would you rather...” The current of bubbles flooding from Tintin’s stomach to his chest intensified as he drew closer to his question. “Give up drinking, or kiss me?”

        Suddenly, Haddock sat up, causing the bubbles to turn into orbs of lead. Tintin sat up next with his jaw slackened, and before he could say anything or see the look on the other man’s face the Captain’s mouth was bumping against his cheek with a clumsy chaste kiss. Tintin’s cheek tingled where the Captain’s beard and lips had rasped against it.

        “You’re right, that was pretty easy.” Said Haddock as he laid himself back down. After only a second of thought Tintin followed the Captain’s direction until he was hovering just over his face. The dawning look of realization in the Captain’s eyes was so gratifying to watch. “Tintin…?” He breathed.

        Tintin dipped further down and paused to roll his lower lip under his teeth. “Is this alright with you?” He asked with uncertainty.

         A hand slithered over the prickle of Tintin’s short hair and pulled their faces together. Drunk lips crashed upon eachother and Tintin took the lead when he realised Haddock was waiting for him to start. It was another chaste and inexperienced smooch, but no matter how many Tintin gave him, the Captain would give in return. Tintin shifted so their torsos pressed together, sky blue perched atop ocean blue, and they shared more soft kisses as they felt eachother’s heartbeats pounding together. There was a great comfort found in the sensation of their lungs filling with air and pressing their chests tighter against eachother. They fit together just as perfect as the natural horizon, Tintin thought. Haddock’s eyes had closed, but Tintin wanted to see the man’s face so close that it was just a blur of wrinkle and hair.

        “Great snakes, it feels  _ good,” _ Tintin sighed only inches away from Haddock’s lips. “I didn’t think it felt like  _ anything _ before.”

        The word ‘before’ peaked Haddock’s half asleep interest. “Would you rather keep kissing or tell me who you’ve kissed before now?” Haddock asked in a low rumble.

        Tintin happily pecked Haddock on the lips before resting the tips of nose and lips against his cheek. “Only girls, that’s strange isn’t it?” Tintin whispered. “I was really young then and I thought I liked them but then I thought, maybe I didn’t...”

        Haddock guided Tintin’s head for ease of kissing him on the nose. Tintin kissed him back on the lips again, relishing in the fact that he was kissing and being kissed by the most divine lips on the planet.

        “I thought maybe I was broken.” Tintin breathed.

        “Not broken. Even if you hated kissing, you wouldn’t be broken.” Haddock said before sweeping Tintin into a shower of kisses over forehead, cheeks, nose, lips, jaw and chin.

        Sharing small kisses was all they did until they fell asleep with Tintin’s chest stacked ontop of the Captain’s and his quiff on his nose. Tintin’s forehead was tickled pleasantly by the Captain’s beard. 

        The last thought on Tintin’s mind before losing all consciousness was;  _ I’m the sky and he’s the sea. _

 


End file.
